


So Battered Down and Sad

by HeartlessFreedom



Category: The Voice (US) RPF, The Voice RPF
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Guns, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-05-29 03:48:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6357703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartlessFreedom/pseuds/HeartlessFreedom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blake can't deal with the weight of everyone leaving him. </p><p>I tried to tag everything I possibly can to avoid triggering anyone. If I've missed something, please let me know so I can help by tagging it. (Even if it's not your own trigger.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> GRAPHIC DEPICTION OF A SUICIDE ATTEMPT!!!! THIS FIC DEALS WITH DEPRESSION, SUICIDIAL THOUGHTS, AND HAS A SUICIDE ATTEMPT. PLEASE BE CAREFULY IF THIS IS TRIGGERING TO YOU!!
> 
> With that said, I've read so many fics where Adam is the one who is broken and depressed that I wanted to take a stab at a Blake dealing with depression. I'm sorry for putting him through this, and I promise he's going to get better. It's just going to take time.

After awhile it became exhausting. Blake had tried for years. He had loved Miranda. He had loved Kaynette. He had thought he loved Gwen, at least enough to help him through the pain of another failed relationship.

He should have learned his lesson years ago. No one ever stays. Everybody leaves him eventually and no one ever loves him enough. He felt needy in his own skin for how long he had wanted more than he deserved.

When Adam stopped talking to him while he was dating Gwen, it hurt. It hurt Blake in a visceral, physical way that he couldn't articulate. He only knew that every bone within him felt as though it was breaking from the inside out and his body could no longer hold the weight. He didn't really stop talking to Blake obviously. He had just stopped doing all the things they had done for years.

He stopped sitting in Blake's chair. He stopped letting Blake hug him unless the larger man pinned him down, but he stopped fighting him in the way that meant he really enjoyed it. He had stopped calling him one of his best friends. He had just stopped being a friend in the ways that had helped Blake hold the fragile pieces of himself together after the divorce.

Gwen breaks up with him, "Because it's time. We'll get the most publicity for our albums and The Voice now," and honestly he's not even that hurt, he just hated the way she had said it. Like it wasn't something that he had any say in and that it shouldn't matter that their friendship wasn't that important to try to claim an amicable split. When she says that, he just stopped caring. He gave up trying to do anything.

He told his manager he needed time off and spent months in Tishomingo drinking and laying in bed doing nothing. He didn't have the energy to answer calls, or to try to do the things he had always loved. He realized about a month in that he probably should have been living off of something other than alcohol and whatever he could find in the freezer or pantry, but he didn't have the energy to care about anything.

The second month in he caught a glimpse in the mirror and realized he had lost a lot of weight. He told himself he had needed to do that for years anyway and just kept the pattern of drinking when he was awake, sleeping for more hours than were healthy and laying in bed feeling nothing. In the back of his brain, he knew he was depressed. He just didn't know what to do. 

Every time he thought about getting help, he just told himself that no one really cared anyway. He hadn't talked to his family in months, Adam hadn't bothered trying to contact him in months and he couldn't convince himself to tell one of his managers, his PA, or his publicist. He was too tired to believe that there was anyone that he didn't pay that cared about him.

It came to a head when one day he found himself looking at his gun case. All he had to do was get the bullets from the gun safe and he could be done. No more pain. No more trouble for the people he kept making life difficult for. No more people leaving him for needing to much. No more pretending to be happy in front of millions of people when he felt nothing inside. The Voice was coming up in another two months and it wasn't fair to leave them without a judge at the last minute, but he knew they'd find someone better. Maybe Luke if he wasn't too busy.

It wasn't until he had the gun in his hand that he hesitated. He needed to say goodbye to the one person he still felt something for even if he could never have him. The phone rang and rang until Adam's voicemail picked up.

"Hey man. I just wanted to hear your voice. I hope you're doing okay. I... I really miss you. I know it's too late to tell you this, but I love you man. I'm sorry for whatever I did to make you stop caring about me. I really missed having you on my lap and talking to you outside of the studio. I..." his voice choked up with the weight of holding back tears, "I'm sorry that I wasn't good enough. I'm gonna miss you. I love you Adam."

He hung up the call and went to his couch. He needed it to be quick and he knew his PA was due to get off vacation the next day. He had to do it then. He out the gun to his mouth at first, but stopped when he imagined the way his mother and family would have to see him when they were called and moved it to his chest. As the shot rang out, he heard the door open and his Personal Assistant, Emily, call out to him. The surprise moved his hands just enough that the bullet tore through his collar bone and he grunted with the pain.

"Blake? Blake! BLAKE!" Emily's voice was worried in the background as he felt the blood seeping out into the couch behind his back as he slumped down under the weight. He heard her asking questions and calling for help in the background noise of his mind as he faded into unconsciousness


	2. Chapter 2

When he woke up, the light hurt his eyes and the pain in his chest was unbearable. He tried to move to see what had happened, but felt the burn of something in his throat and his hands and legs were bound to the bed. He heard a machine beep with a wild rhythm as he tried to move and get the plastic out of his mouth and throat.

When he looked up he saw a nurse and Doctor standing over him as they tried to ask him questions, but all he could do was try to convey that the tube hurt and he needed it out. His eyes were huge as the doctor helped remove the tape holding the tube in place and told him to cough as they removed it. 

When it was finally out, he thrashed under the pain of trying to move while coughing for the irritation in his throat and lungs. He felt the bullet wound in his chest burn like nothing he had ever felt as he moved harder and harder to get out of the restraints, to get out of the hospital.

He looked around the room and saw it empty other than the nurse and Doctor who told him that the Psychiatrist would be there soon and could only look back in horror. He tried to open his mouth to speak and felt his voice croak under the strain.

"No. Please just let me go. I want to go home."

"Mr. Shelton, even with the other things aside, you won't be well enough to leave the hospital for at least a week until your body has healed enough to move you to a rehab center." The doctor spoke in a strong by sympathetic tone and Blake hated the way he sounded.

"Leave me alone. I don't have to stay here. Let me out of here. I'll leave AMA if I have to."

"I'm sorry Mr. Shelton but because of your suicide attempt and the way you are reacting now, you cannot leave AMA for your own safety."

Blake didn't respond after the doctor had said the word suicide. He let all the fight leave his body and just heard the word "suicide" repeated over and over again. He hadn't thought about that word when he had felt the gun in his hands or when he had thought through his plan to make sure it would be quick and painless. He hated himself for not even being able to kill himself correctly. He tuned out what the doctor was saying until he left the room with the nurse and he was left alone with someone new that had come in. 

Her name tag said Dr. Sheridan and he guessed she must have been the psychiatrist the doctor had talked about before. She spent a few minutes trying to ask him questions, but he just stared straightforward and ignored anything she asked. It wasn't until she said something about letting his visitors in to see him before he answered.

"God, who's out there. I don't want to see them. They can't come in here if I say no right?" His monitor went off loudly again and the nurse entered while Dr. Sheridan explained what had happened.

"Mr. Shelton, we were able to keep your attempt a secret from the media and your publicist spun it as a hunting accident, but your PA had already shared with your family and the rest of your team. They're all out there worried about you and wanting to see you awake and alive. Mr. Levine in particular hasn't stopped asking to see you since he got here."

Blake shut his eyes at the thought of his family and team out there and couldn't stop himself from crying when he heard that Adam had come. He felt her arm touch his hand gently as he started crying. Suddenly the grief poured out so quickly that he couldn't stop crying and felt like he couldn't breathe.

"Mr. Shelton. Blake. I need you to focus on your breathing. You're having a panic attack. Try to focus on breathing."

But Blake couldn't stop the tears and fear that were eating him inside out. He heard the doctor call for the nurse again and vaguely saw her administer something through his IV and he was swept away to sleep once again


	3. Chapter 3

When he woke for the second time, it felt like struggling to break the surface of the water when you've been caught in too many waves in the ocean. He opened his eyes blearily and saw the his parents sleeping in the chairs next to his bed. They must have gotten a second one for his room, because they were pushed together in the cramped space of a single room. He felt guilty and embarrassed about causing so much trouble for everyone. "If only I had been able to do it right," he thought.

He took in the darkened room and figured it must have been late at the darkened hour from outside the window. He heard the door open as a different nurse came in and moved to take his pulse, blood pressure and respirations. She whispered what she was doing for each one as he silently acknowledged her and watched her inject a pain medication into his IV. A few moments later he fell asleep again.

The next few hours passed in the same manner until he woke at daylight and saw his room empty once again other than Dr. Sheridan. She sat looking at him, waiting for him to speak until he felt the unbearable silence crush him into speaking.

"What?" His voice was rough and angry. "What do you want from me?"

"That's a good question. I want you to be healthy again. I want to help you detox from your alcohol addiction. I want to talk with you about your depression and suicide attempt. I want to help you find an anti-depressant regime that can help you. I want to know why you had a panic attack when I brought up what I did before. But most importantly, I want to know how I can help you achieve those goals."

Blake could help his angry reply, blinded by his fear and desperate desire to not talk about it.

"Well, that's fucking wonderful, but maybe I don't want to talk. Maybe I just want the pain to stop and for everyone to stop acting like they give a fuck about me when they're just going to leave me or only want my money."

He knew he had given too much away when she "hmmm'd" and wrote on her pad.

"Is that what you think? That no one really cares about you? That everyone you let in is just going to hurt you?"

Her glared at her icily and didn't answer.

"Well, that's not uncommon for people with depression to feel. They often feel as though no one cares about them and avoid people for the fear of getting hurt. Your friends and family said that you had not spoken to them in months and your PR team stated that you had asked off from touring and everything else for four months until you were supposed to start recording The Voice again."

Blake glared back harder at the thought of her talking to everyone about him.

"The only one who's refused to talk to anyone is Mr. Levine. He insists he won't speak to anyone but you and hasn't left the waiting room for anything other than to eat and use the restroom. Would you be more willing to talk if he was in the room? You seemed to react to my mention of him before."

"Oh God no. I don't know. Tell him to go home. Tell them all just to leave me alone. I'm not worth the trouble."

"Mr. Shelton, we are going to work on a lot of things together and you have a long road to recovery, but I want to start right here. You have a waiting room full of people who love you and care for you. You are deserving of their love and so much more, even if you can't see it or accept that right now. But we're going to work on it."

Blake faltered, then replied in a quieter tone.

"I... I called him. I couldn't help but say goodbye to him, and I was so selfish and dumb to call him and worry him. And now he knows. I don't think I can handle that."

She reacher her hand to his again and gently grasped it.

"That's good. I'm glad you were willing to share that with me. But I think the fact that he was the last person you wanted to talk to means something important. Don't you?"

"I, uh, I guess maybe. But, I'm so tired and I'm scared of seeing them. Of seeing him."

"Well, I'll tell you what Blake, why don't we have each one come in one at a time while I'm here and if anyone upsets you I will have them leave?"

"Maybe?"

"Okay. We'll before we try that, why don't you get some more rest. You've got a lot of physical healing to do as well. But I do have one more question for you."

"Yeah?" Blake's answered hesitantly.

"Do you want to get better?"

"I... I'm not great with words, but... I guess I want to get better but I don't know if I believe I ever can. Right now I'm just so tired and I don't see any way back from this. I'm embarrassed that I caused so much trouble, and angry that I messed up, and I'm scared that they'll forgive me and that they won't forgive me. But I want to try."

"Good. Thank you for your honesty Blake."

"Can I ask you a question before you leave?"

"Sure. Why'd you start calling me Blake instead of Mr. Shelton?

"I didn't know you at first, but you started opening up. So I'm going to call you Blake and you can call me Martha." With that she turned off the light to his room and reached for the door.

"Hey Martha? Thank you."

"You're welcome Blake. I promise we're going to work to get you healthy again."


	4. Chapter 4

Over the next few days Blake started a new round of medication called Wellbutrin, prescribed by Martha, to help with his depression. She also had written him a prescription for Ativan that was carefully dosed out by the nursing staff just like all his other medicine. He wanted to complain at first until he realized that if he had been given access to the medication for himself, he wouldn't have been able to stop himself from trying again. After the first three day's, Martha started bringing in his family members one by one and letting them see him for a few minutes at a time. She must have talked to them first, because they didn't bring up his wound or attempt at all, but spent their time telling him how much they loved him and how glad they were that he was doing okay.

His doctor finally cleared him to be moved to a different floor once he had healed enough to start doing physical therapy to be able to stand and walk again after so much internal trauma had kept him laying down in bed for weeks.

He moved to a different wing of the hospital for general healthcare. They had originally wanted to move him to the Psych Ward, but his team had still managed to keep the true story out of the papers and he couldn't be seen as a mental health patient if he was "recovering for a hunting injury." 

Despite the fact that he had been in the hospital for three weeks and had met with his family and team, he still hadn't met with Adam yet. He'd talked to Martha every day as she told him about Adam camping out in the waiting rooms and refusing to leave. His parents hadn't mentioned him, but he could tell they were wondering what kind of relationship the two men had that Adam was willing to spend three weeks staying in a waiting room for a man who refused to see him and begged for information every time someone got back from spending some time with Blake. 

Blake wondered if Martha was trying to push him into talking about Adam or to Adam, by the way she talked about Adam living off cafeteria food and only going to his hotel every other night to shower and change before returning to "his space" in the waiting room. She talked to Blake about how lucky it was that the smaller waiting room on his new floor was private and had better seating for Adam to sleep in. 

Finally, Blake couldn't take it anymore.

"What do you want me to say? I've talked to everyone else. I'm taking the pills. I'm trying to get better. I promised I wouldn't hurt myself, and that if I was feeling suicidal that I would get someone else first to help me before I tried something. What do you want me to do?!"

"I want you to be honest Blake. We've talked about a lot of things in our short time together so far. And you've made some progress, but there is someone who really cares about you out there who has not given up on seeing you. Even your parents have taken him into their home and tried to take care of him as much as they're trying to be their for you. So I want you to tell me why Adam is so important."

"Because I'm in love with him!" Blake's voice, loud and angry, shocked himself. "Because I'm in love with him and I've loved him for a long time. But no one ever really loves me for long and there's so much fucked up stuff wrong with me and the whole situation. He's married, he's straight, I'm a country artist so I can't be gay or bi or whatever the hell I am, and even with all of that aside, how could he ever love me? How could he love someone so broken and hurt and scarred and I don't think I can stand someone else I'm in love with breaking my heart. So I don't know what to do.

I called him as a last goodbye. I wanted to hear his voice before I died and I told him I loved him, but I don't know how I said it or if he knew what it meant, but I'm really fucking scared. He's not someone to pussyfoot around a subject. The minute he's in here, he's going to be angry and asking me questions and I don't know how to answer or what to expect. And I know that's not fair because he's been there for me for three weeks so he must care about me, but I don't know what that means."

"Do you feel better now Blake?" Martha asked in the tone that Blake described as smug, because she got him to admit something he didn't want to.

"Yes. Yeah, I do. But fuck you Martha." She merely laughed, used to his slight anger at his own revelations being said aloud.

"So tomorrow Adam gets to come in the room?"

"Yeah... l yeah I guess I gotta deal with it sometime."


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning had Blake begging for an Ativan before Adam came so he could stop the panic attack rising inside himself.

When Martha entered with Adam, Blake knew what she had been saying wasn't an exaggeration. He was pale and tired looking. He had deep bags under his eyes and his clothes looked wrinkled from sleeping in them. He looked haunted. Blake hated that he had caused that look.

"So..."

"Soooo..."

"Alright boys. Let's not be too eloquent here. You both clearly have a lot of talk about so I'm going to sit in the corner here and let you two try to work somethings out."

Adam moved to sit in the chair close to Blake's bed. He hadn't had the restraints on for a week but the bruises were yellow in the healing process and Adam stared at the bruised skin. For several minutes no words were spoken, and the two hadn't done anything more than avoid eye contact and glance at each other until Blake felt Adam's hand resting on his wrist.

Blake raised his eyes to meet Adam's. There were still not words spoken, but the sudden quiet became loud as they both began crying. Blake cried for the fear and pain and loss he had dealt with for so long, and Adam cried for all the pain that Blake had felt. 

After several minutes, Adam pulled himself away from Blake. Somewhere in their breakdown they had pulled each other in a loose hug that had Adam almost pulled into the bed beside Blake. Their sobs tapered off into hiccups as they collected themselves and prepared for the worst. Each man prepared for hurtful barbs thrown and blame to get placed.

"It's... It's good to see you. Finally." Blake coughed out a sob and looked down.

"I was ashamed. And scared. And I didn't feel I had the right to see you."

"What does that mean Blake? I haven't talked to anyone else about it yet. Are you okay with her being here?" he asked as he nodded his head at Martha.

"Yeah. Yeah, she's been helping me. Apparently I have to be honest with myself and others if I'm going to get better."

"Fuck. Blake." Adam looked down at Blake and stared at where the wound was slowly healing. His eyes let a few tears drop as he focused on what to say. "Blake I listened to that voicemail about 100 times. I have never been so scared in my entire life. And I need to figure out if we're talking about the same things if you're working on getting better."

"What voicemail? I knew you called him, but you never mentioned a voicemail," Martha asked, almost forgotten in the corner of the room.

"I left a voicemail for Adam before.... We'll before."

"Are you willing to let me hear it so you two can discuss it and I can help?"

Adam looked at Blake. When Blake nodded Adam pulled out his phone and went to his Voicemails.

"Hey man. I just wanted to hear your voice. I hope you're doing okay. I... I really miss you. I know it's too late to tell you this, but I love you man. I'm sorry for whatever I did to make you stop caring about me. I really missed having you on my lap and talking to you outside of the studio. I...I'm sorry that I wasn't good enough. I'm gonna miss you. I love you Adam." 

Blake's voice sounded broken and defeated, loud from the speakerphone it echoed through the room.

"Okay, well that's definitely something to talk about. Blake? What made you call Adam?" Blake glared at her, believing she wanted to force him through the awful admission of his love for Adam again. "You stopped talking to almost everyone for two months, but you decided to call Adam before you attempted anything. Why did you want to hear his voice?"

Blake stared down at his lap as he tried to find the right words.

"I guess I just thought, that Adam was one of my best friends. One of the few people I don't pay or ain't related to and doesn't want me for connections. I guess I just felt like I wanted him to know that I appreciated that and that I was sorry for my part in whatever made us grow apart lately."

Blake found Adam's hands lifting his face in order to look into his eyes.

"I think there's more than that, but we can start there. Blake, you didn't do anything wrong. I had some personal problems of my own and I let it affect how I interacted with everyone. I'm sorry that it came the same time that your depression started getting bad, but you didn't do anything wrong. You are one of my best friends and I love you."

Blake looked in Adam's eyes and started crying again at the sincerity.

"He's right, you know? Depression makes us feel like every little hurt is a stab wound. Your depression had been in you for awhile and you put on a facade for a little no time. We've already discussed that while the time spent in solitude compressed the time frame, you'd been fighting depression for years as you used poor coping mechanisms to white knuckle your way through it. So I want to say not only did you do nothing wrong to cause the changes in your friendship recently, but, Adam, you are also not to blame for having your own issues and not being able to see the changes."

Adam looked surprised and angry at her statement. 

"Well, it feels like I should have been a better friend. I should have been there for him."

"Adam, you cannot be responsible for someone else's mental health. Yes, we all need a support system, but my guess is that you were just as lost without Blake as your support system in your own problems."

"Why do we keep talking about Adam's 'drama' and 'problems'?" Blake asked.

Adam quickly looked at Martha.

"That's a good question, but think we should stop there for today and we'll try this again tomorrow. If that's okay with the two of you?" They both nodded.

"Can I ask a favor?" Blake's Boise was hesitant. "Will you go home with my parents and get some sleep before tomorrow?" His hand reached to hold Adam's but stopped an inch away. Adam closed the distance and answered.

"Do you promise you'll let me keep coming to see you?" Blake nodded. Adam moved their hands until their pinkies were hooked together. "I'm going to hold you to that pinkie promise Cowboy. I'll get some sleep if you'll let me come back."

"Okay. I can do that." Their hands slowly moved apart as Adam walked to the door and out of the room


	6. Chapter 6

The next day found a more rested and emotionally lightened Blake, anxiously working his way through physical therapy before Adam came to visit again. He returned to his room to see Martha and Adam talking quietly in the corner.

"Uh, hey," Blake said in greeting. "I didn't know you were here yet." His nurse helped him into bed and he covered himself with the blanket, grateful to be resting after the painful rehab session. Adam moved to sit in the chair next to the bed again and rested his hand over Blake's.

"Yeah. I was anxious to see you. I was worried you might not let me in again."

"Well, I made a pinky promise. That's a hard promise to break," Blake said with a half hearted attempt at humor. Adam smiled and Blake's chest hurt from the painful way it always did when he was with Adam.

"True. But I also just missed you. I want to be here for you as you recover and I also needed to talk to Martha about some things."

"Like what?"

"A lot of stuff, but we can talk more about them as we come up to it Blake," Martha said as she broke the awkward silence when Adam had hesitated.

"Okay I guess. So what are we talking about today?"

"Well, that's up to you and Adam, Blake. I'm here to help you both have more clear communication and to help you get better. I think we all agree that your relationship is one of the most strained ones in both of your lives now. So if you both want to work on it, that's what I'm here for."

Adam and Blake looked at each other and, after a moment, nodded. 

"Okay, well why don't you boys just talk and we'll see where we go and need to go."

The room was quiet for a tense moment before Adam spoke.

"I... I'm really angry right now. And I know that anger only comes from fear, so I'm really just scared, but fuck if it makes that much difference right now."

"Are you mad at me?" Blake asked timidly. It struck Adam as odd to see Blake so broken down and timid. He had always been a force of nature to Adam. He hated seeing Blake so scared and quiet.

"Yes. No. I mean, yes I'm mad because you almost died Blake, and that scares the crap out of me, but I'm still mad that I wasn't a better friend. I'm mad that you didn't know you could come to me at any time and I would be there for you in a heartbeat. I'm mad that I didn't have my phone with me. I'm mad that you thought I didn't care anymore and I have to take some of the blame for that no matter what Martha says. I'm so mad, but all that means is that I'm so scared of a world that doesn't have you in it. I'm scared that Emily could have not shown up that day. I'm scared of you saying you want to get better and then doing this again as soon as you're out. So yes, Blake, I'm mad as hell. But mostly with myself."

 

The room sat in silence for a few minutes as Adam's anger and grief weighed heavily around them.

"I'm sorry. It's my fault you feel that way. If I hadn't called you, if I hadn't been selfish enough to call you, you wouldn't have had to know or worry about me."

Adam looked up and angrily stared at Blake until he was forced to make eye contact with him.

"Don't you fucking dare say that. Even if I'd only heard you'd been in a hunting accident, I would still have been here. I care about you Blake. I love you and you do not get to throw that away by acting like you don't know that I would be here for you no matter what. That I will be here for you no matter what." His eyes were brimming with tears as he spoke angrily. When he blinked a few fell down his cheeks, and before Blake could stop himself, he felt his hand on Adam's face wiping the tears away.

"I'm sorry Adam. I feel like no matter what I do, I keep fucking things up more. I'm sorry. I guess I do know that you care, that my family cares, that y'all want to help me get better. I just feel dumb for not being able to just get better. To stop being depressed and feeling like I let down everyone I love. I know that you care, but for a long time it didn't feel like anyone did. I was so alone and it seemed like there was no one who cared that I was falling apart in front of them. I was so hurt and numb and it felt like I was screaming out for help but no one cared.

I know that I should have actually asked for help. I know I should have told someone, but I didn't have words for what was wrong then. It seemed dumb to say that I wanted to die because my heart was too broken. It seems dumb to say that I feel like I have always loved every person I have loved, more than they love me. It seems dumb to say that it still hurts when I think about that, even though I know it's not true."

"Damn right it's not true," Adam said as he moved his face in Blake's hand to softly kiss his palm before removing it to hold in his hand. Blake was suddenly struck with how intimate they had been physically for the past few minutes. "I definitely love you more than you love me, because they is no way in hell I am ever letting you go. You don't get to die on me, okay?"

Blake nodded solemnly and hesitated before asking, "When... When you say you love me, does... Does that mean like a friend? Or..." His voice trailed off, too scared to ask for what he hoped.

"It means I'm in love with you Blake. But you're not healthy right now, and I'm not quite right either. So I'm telling you this now because I need you to know, but it doesn't mean that you have to decide what that means for you now. In fact, I won't hold you to whatever you decide that means to you until we are both in a more balanced mental health space."

Blake sat with Adam's hand in his as tears took him over as well.

"I get what you're saying Adam, but I have tell you that I love you too. I'm in love with you too. That's why I wanted your voice to be the last one I heard. I know that won't make you feel anything but guilty or mad, but I just want you to know that I've loved you for a long time. And I want to get better. I couldn't dream of a world in which you could love me back, and I know it's going to be tough, but I can't let you leave with telling you that I love you too."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm writing this as a coping mechanism for my own depression and stuff going on right now, so it's more therapeutic than anything., but I promise that I'm going to give these two a happier ending.


End file.
